You Have Me
by Katie1995
Summary: Haymitch/Effie one shot!Exhaustion is a common feeling, a friend, something that overwhelms me easily – today is no different. I rest my head on his chest and the rhythmic beating of his heart lures me into a net of safety where I hope to stay. R&R!


**A/N – DISCLAIMER - (I do not own The Hunger Games or the characters in any way; all rights are reserved to Suzanne Collins.)**

**You have me**

**Effie's P.O.V.**

I stumble from the room in a mess of tears and running make-up. Cinna's gone, Seneca's gone! I try to keep from falling, but I trip and fall to the floor. I don't care anymore. My life is a mess, a huge mess I can't seem to sort out. I draw my knees to my chest and let the hiccupping-sobs consume me until there are no more tears left to cry.

Shaking, I push myself back up and uncertain footsteps get closer and closer from behind me. I look over my shoulder, not caring at all about my appearance. Portia stands in the doorway, her eyes red like mine.

"Come here," she whispers, opening her arms and letting me fall into them.

I try to tell her how I feel, but nothing leaves my lips. I try again, but words yet again fail me.

"You don't have to say anything," Portia says, rubbing my back. "I know just how you feel."

"Cinna," I choke, relieved and yet cruelly reminded what I – we – have lost today.

Portia's chest deflates as she exhales and kisses the top of my head. "He knew what he was doing, Effie," she reminds me, sincerity lacing her words. "He did what he thought was right."

"He did what _was _right," I retort, pushing her so I'm standing away at arm's length. "I should have known this is something he would've done," I sigh, dropping my head. "And now... now it's too late." My words sink in and the tears begin to swim in my eyes again.

"You're not alone, Effie," Portia, adds, quietly.

"Aren't I?" I spit, bitterly. "Because, Portia everyone I am near or who I love are taken away from me and destroyed!" I fall back again and catch myself against the white wall behind me.

Portia has tears running down her cheeks, and I nod, curtly, angry at everything and everyone for not being able to stop these terrible things from happening.

"Why do I cause these things?" I whisper, finally.

Portia shakes her head but makes no actions to wipe her tears away. "You don't cause these things," she mumbles through deep breaths. "No-one like you could."

She takes my hand in hers and leads me into the open-planned sitting room where Haymitch sits surprisingly sober. He has the TV, a low humming of news which I do not care for. He turns to see who has entered the room and I turn away from his glare suddenly, not wanting his attention to be drawn to my mourning.

"Well, well, well," he chuckles, darkly. "Finally showing some emotion are we?"

I spin on my heel and stride towards him. It's not until my hand makes contact with his cheek I realise I've slapped him. Astonished, I turn my back on him and cross my arms over my chest. I am not like those heartless people in The Capitol.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, stunned.

I hear Haymitch shift and take a glance over my shoulder. He's holding his hand over the red mark forming below his right eye. He smiles slightly but winces and lowers his eye line.

"I'm sorry," he counters, placing a newspaper on the table before him. "It was unreasonable."I nod slowly and allow myself to turn to him. "I never knew you had it in you," he adds, quickly, reverting to his usual behaviour.

Portia looks over and slight awkwardness fills the room. She feels as if she shouldn't be here and so she lets herself wander towards the door towards the white corridors that will lead her to her private quarters. I'm secretly wishing she'll take me with her, but she doesn't and I suddenly feel lost to be left by myself with Haymitch.

Panem's anthem fills the room and our attention is drawn towards the TV screen. I take the seat furthest away from Haymitch and draw my knees up under my chin. The reporter, a chubby bloke with thinning hair, sits behind a desk, a headline stretched behind him on a wide screen.

"_The betrayers of Panem."_

I take in a shaky breath and wait for the reporter to speak, but the four images that spread out behind me bow my head and not want to look up.

"As we know," the reporter begins in a sigh, "there have been four major incidents with people in country who are determined to destroy our nation and serenity. First of all, Seneca Crane, who allowed this to happen." I shiver as they cut to the last moments of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games and Katniss and Peeta are spitting the Nightlock berries from their mouths. If he hadn't done what he did, he'd still be here. But if he did what Snow wanted, one of my tributes would be dead. "And Cinna, who we all know, has been dealt with in the only way a traitor should be dealt with." The screen cuts back to Katniss' interview before the Quarter Quell and her dress bursting into flames, slowly turning her into a Mockingjay. "But through everything, we have these two," the reporter finishes, his forehead gleaming with seat as Katniss and Peeta appear on every Capitol screen. "But this is the Quarter Quell, and what hasn't been dealt with may still have a chance to play itself out." I hiss horribly at the reporter says the words.

"Don't be too surprised," murmurs Haymitch although I can hear the sorrow through his words.

"I'm not," I retort, quickly, my eyes meeting his for the first time in days.

Haymitch goes to switch the TV off, but it cuts again to another scene, and there I am in that... room, that prison. I look to Haymitch in desperation and I'm on my feet in a flash, reaching for the remote, but he grabs it and holds it out of my reach.

"What's the matter, Sweetheart?" he asks, his tone now lilting into his jeering side.

I push him away and fall to my knees before him, whispering, "I don't want you to see."

There's a moment of silence until the reporter's voice destroys the delicate film between us. "And as we all know, traitors affect more than just themselves."

"_What do you want me to do?" _A voice shrills from the speakers._ "Kill you?" _Haymitch looks from me to the screen where I am reflected.

"Effie," he breathes, his voice low.

"_They'll torture you otherwise," _another, deeper voice answers.

I breathe out although I can't anchor myself. Instead, I place my hands over my ears and close my eyes. I rock until I feel hands wrap around my wrists. "No!" I shout, scared for my sanity. "Don't let me relive it again!" The hands drop and I keep my head in my hands.

A hand is placed upon my trembling shoulders and I look at the owner's face, but drawback, not quick enough to miss me do that terrible action. And I can't even explain how I feel anymore because I can't handle all the pain in one moment. The impact of actually watching myself slit Seneca's throat crushes me into thousand pieces and I collapse into myself, clutching at my chest as if the pain will lessen, but it doesn't.

The scene cuts and the screen goes blank before the reporter comes back on again. "Remember," he says, strongly, "Capitol citizens have a duty to keep traitors at bay and our nation strong." The anthem plays again and then there's some buzzing and the screen goes black yet again, reflecting two figures in complete blackness.

I gasp as physically painful sobs emit from my chest and echo back at me from the white walls. I push myself back towards the door behind me, but Haymitch stops me.

"L-let me g-go," I say, my voice jumping horribly.

"You're a state," he whispers, his voice surprisingly soft. I want to run from this room, but I can't and instead anger overwhelms me and all I can do is scream! I don't care where I am or who I am with. The anger hurts and twists my heart so much that I can only find comfort in words I know will not help me.

"Everyone!" I snarl, "Everyone!" I repeat, my hands shaking violently. "They took him away from me, I did it, I killed him and yet I live, here, now, alive when he's dead. It's my fault!" I shriek, my voice carrying through the corridors that Avoxs and the stylist team gathers at the door way. "Why couldn't I save them?" I ask without receiving an answer. "Why?"

Haymitch makes a sound that resembles a child who has lost their words and instead crouches down next to me.

"Cinna!" I continue, my voice high and raw. "He's gone, too! Everyone who knew and me understood me. I have no-one anymore! No-one," I end in a whisper. "And it's my fault."

Haymitch's eyes are glassy and I look desperately into his grey orbs, hating the pitying looks I am gaining. "I destroyed him, Haymitch. I _killed _Seneca and our baby."

Haymitch, ignoring the spectators takes me into his arms on the floor. I can't look him in the eye.

"You saw," I reminded him. "How I took his life in cold blood, how I couldn't save Cinna."

"It isn't your fault, Effie. You couldn't have helped it-

"Couldn't have I?" I ask because his words have no effect on me. "Because if I did, I would have had them, my best friend and soon to husband. I could have saved them. Who do I have left?" The words are sounding distastefully needy and I hate it!

Haymitch shifts his weight slightly and wraps his arms around my torso. "You have me," he breathes as he kisses my temple.

"You won't go away?" The question is timid under the crowd's glare.

Haymitch draws back and looks at me. "I'm here to stay."

Exhaustion is a common feeling, a friend, something that overwhelms me easily – today is no different. I rest my head on his chest and the rhythmic beating of his heart lures me into a net of safety where I hope to stay.

**A/N – My first ever Haymitch/Effie one shot! How'd it turn out? Good, bad?**

**Please Review!**

**Thanks, Katie1995. :)**


End file.
